


I Promise You, He's Proud

by whisper_of_writing



Series: Assassin Au [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Assassin Keith (Voltron), Assassins & Hitmen, Astronomy, Backstory, Beaches, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Male Character, Character Death, Character Study, College, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Eventual Keith/Lance (Voltron), Future, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Male Character, Hospitalization, Hospitals, I just realized that I spelled Sylvio's name wrong for the entire fic and had to go fix it :/, Kid Lance (Voltron), Korean Keith (Voltron), Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past, Pilot Lance (Voltron), Sad Lance (Voltron), Series, Stars, Teen Lance (Voltron), Time Skips, Wannabe Pilot Lance, Years Later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 06:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19824382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisper_of_writing/pseuds/whisper_of_writing
Summary: A look into some of Lance's past experiences with his Abuelo, with the same one-sentence prompt as Keith's backstory.Lance smiles, eyes crinkling as a large grin takes over his face. “Okay Abuelo, I’ll never give up.”“I’m going to space,” Lance yells excitedly.“Mama? Why are you crying? Are you upset? Did something happen?"“The doctors are estimating it at about three more years.”“We can not talk to my father, you know that.”"We leave tomorrow, you are to have no explicit contact with your family or friends, and all money sent back will be delivered anonymously.”“Lance, I know that you're upset.”“He should be here,” Lance cuts off his mother.





	I Promise You, He's Proud

**Author's Note:**

> "Just keep moving on, that's all you can do."
> 
> As of the date that this had been published, there are only two other works in the series (Is That A Gun In Your Pocket, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me? and Fire In His Heart) and it is not necessary that you read them in order because the plot points have yet to be connected, but as more works are added to the series I recommend that you go in the order that I have placed the works. 
> 
> Also, I didn't mean for this to be so long and I'm pretty sure this is the longest work that I've ever written without a chapter break.

“Abuelita! Abuelito!”

A four-year-old Lance makes his way around the corner and into the small kitchen where his grandparents are pulling fresh baked cookies out of the oven. 

Ocean blue eyes widen as his gaze falls upon the tray of newly made cookies that rest on the counter. 

“Abuela! Are the cookies finally done,” he asks, tugging on her flour-covered apron. 

“Yes, they are Lancito, but careful they are still very hot.”

She smiles softly as Lance eagerly runs towards the batch of sweets. Lance’s Abuela is a short, sweet old woman with circular glasses and blinding white hair. His Abuelo has greying hair and a very blunt sense of humor, rather than sugar-coating things he’ll tell you outright. It is a characteristic that can be very off-putting to those who first meet him, but it’s one of Lance’s favorite things about him. 

Lance sits at the large wooden table, happily munching on his chocolate chip cookie, by the time that he’s finished there are crumbs on the table and chocolate all over Lance’s face. 

“Lance, look at the mess you made, you’ve got your crumbs all over the table,” his Abuela scolds. 

Lance looks down in shame, his chocolate-covered lips forming a small frown as he pouts.

“I’m sorry Abuela,” he apologizes meekly. 

“It’s okay, let’s get you cleaned up and you can help me pick up the kitchen.”

Lance smiles and practically jumps out of the chair, bounding towards his Abuela.

“After, do you think Abuelo would tell me more about the stars,” he asks, eyes twinkling in excitement at the prospect. 

“That’s a question for your Abuelo.” 

Immediately, Lance turns around and heads towards his Abuelo, who is peacefully rocking back and forth in a hand-crafted wooden chair. 

“Abuelo! Can you tell me more about the stars once me and Abuela clean the kitchen,” Lance questions, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“Sure Lancito, but why don’t we wait until it’s dark, then we can go to the beach and I’ll tell you about the stars.”

Lance nods his head. 

“Okay, now go back to your Abuela, you have chocolate all over your face,” he says, poking the smaller boy in the stomach teasingly. 

Lance laughs and goes running back to his Abuela.

~

Later That Evening

~

Lance’s Abuelo is tugging Lance softly by the hand across the beach. The pair stumble along under the moonlight as the sand underneath them gives way to their weight with each step. The soft crash of the waves is the only audible sound. 

The duo stops at a deserted area of the beach, where the city lights can no longer reach them. 

They finally settle down on a dry patch of sand and Lance carefully lays out a blanket for them to rest on. Lance’s Abuelo sits down next to him with a grunt.

“Now where did we leave off last time?”

“You were telling me about con- con- constealeations,” Lance stutters.

Lance looks down, brows furrowed in confusion and mutters, “I don’t think I’m saying that right.”

“Constellations. Look up at the sky Lance, they’re everywhere.” 

Lance turns his gaze up at the dark midnight sky, the stars twinkling like fairy lights, the sight brings a soft smile to his face. 

“Constellations are patterns that groups of stars create, and their picture can tell a story. Look,” he points to a star and slowly connects it with others, “this is called Hydra. It’s the largest constellation in the sky. A hydra is a monster that had nine heads in Greek mythology, the demi-god, Hercules, was tasked with killing it. It is said that only one of the Hydra’s nine heads is immortal, and its immortal head is the one that will shine in the stars.”

“Wow,” Lance gasps, “Did any of that really happen?” 

“Most likely not, they are just stories, but you never really know.” 

“I want to go see the stars up close. Can I do that Abuelo? Or is that just a story too?” 

Despite the accusatory way that Lance had worded the question, there was no malice in his voice, just genuine curiosity. 

“If you really believe, you can do anything you want, but to truly make your dreams come true, you’re going to need to do more than wish, it’s going to take effort and a lot of hard work. If you have your heart set on something, never give up.”

Lance smiles, eyes crinkling as a large grin takes over his face. “Okay Abuelo, I’ll never give up.” 

Giggling, Lance suddenly jumps up and places his hands on his hips, striking a pose. 

“I’m going to space,” Lance yells excitedly, before falling back down on the sand-covered blanket in a fit of laughter. Next to him, his Abuelo starts to get up, chuckling.

“We should be getting back now, it’s late and your Mama will be worried.” 

Together they shake the sand out of the blanket, neatly folding it, and begin to walk back home, Lance skipping happily the entire way. 

~

Three Months Later

~ 

Two months after Lance and Veronica’s fifth birthday.

“Mama? Why are you crying? Are you upset? Did something happen? Is it why you picked me and Vero up so early from school?”

Lance’s voice gradually gets higher pitched and more panicked as time goes on and his onslaught of questions remain unanswered, while his twin sister, Veronica, remains silent. 

Finally, his mother sighs in defeat and tightens her grip on the steering wheel in preparation. 

“Veronica, Lance, I don’t want either of you to panic, but your Abuelo is in the hospital. Both Marco and Luis are already there, your Abuela picked them up from the middle school earlier.”

Both the children's eyes widen in shock as tears begin to form.

“What happened,” Lance asks, voice shaking slightly. 

“Did he get hit by a car? Or a bus! Did a shark attack him at the beach?! Does this mean Abuelo is missing an arm!”

“No Lance, he had a stroke,” his mother answers, knuckles white from her grip on the steering wheel.

“Is he going to be alright,” Veronica questions, her voice is small and weak, but equally as shaken as her brother. 

“I’m not sure.” 

A single tear slips down her cheek and they continue the rest of the car ride in silence. 

-

When the three arrive at the hospital, Lance is the first one out of the car. 

His backpack had long since been abandoned, seeing as he had removed it earlier in the car ride, so nothing was stopping him from running up to the building and impatiently banging on the series of automatic glass doors with his fists as he waits for them to open.

When he runs into the lobby the blond secretary at the desk shoots him a strange look before she smoothes her features out and asks, “Excuse me? Are you lost, do you know where your parents are?”

Lance looks up at her and answers, “My Mama and sister are outside. I’m here to see my Abuelo.” 

At that moment Lance’s mother frantically runs through the doors, dragging Veronica by her hand.

“Lance! You do not run off like that mijo, you could have gotten hit by a car.” 

She continues to fret over the small boy until she is interrupted by the secretary clearing her voice.

“I assume you are his mother.” 

“Yes, I am,” she confirms. 

She nods silently and turns her attention to the computer on her desk, fingers poised over the keys.

“May I ask who you are here to visit?” 

“Leonardo McClain, he should have been admitted today.” 

She types the name into the computer.

“Room 112, down the hall to the left. He may still be in treatment, it could be some time until you are able to see him.”

Mrs. McClain grabs Lance’s hand with her free one and walks down the hall in the direction of room 112, her children in tow. 

~

Lance Age Six

~ 

“Lance, can you find my keys?” 

The voice is abnormally low and the speech distorted to the point where it sounded strangled making ‘Lance’ sound like ‘Lansh’, ‘you’ like ‘ou’, and ‘keys’ like ‘keysh’, so on and so forth. 

It had been like this ever since Leonardo, Lance’s Abuelo, came home from the hospital, his voice having been majorly affected by the stroke. Resulting in him having to go to speech therapy three times a week.

“They’re right next to you Abuelo, on the counter,” Lance replies, without looking up from the TV.

His voice wasn’t the only thing that had changed, the doctors said that his memory may be permanently damaged. And true to their word, the McClain family could already see the effects of said damage. 

“Oh, you’re right, I must have forgotten.” 

“It’s okay,” Lance says, getting up from his spot on the couch. 

“You ready to go?”

Lance nods as his Abuelo makes his way to the door and Lance grabs the keys that he had neglected to collect off of the counter before following suit. 

~

Lance Age Eleven

~

Lance wakes with a start, the loud slam of the front door echoes throughout the silent house. He slips out of bed and peers through the blinds on his window to see a figure in the moonlight walking towards the beach.

Lance immediately recognizes the figure as his Abuelo and without a second thought, bolts from his room and out the door, still dressed in his baggy pajama bottoms and a loose fitted t-shirt.

“Abuelo!” 

Lance sprint slows to a stop as the man turns to him, eyes momentarily clouded in confusion until he realizes it was Lance who had called out to him.  
“Where.”

Inhale. 

“Are.”

Inhale.

“You.” 

Inhale. 

“Going?” 

Lance is gasping for breath between each word. 

“I- I don’t know.” 

His Abuelo’s speech is still slow, almost lethargic. There’s still a slight rasp to his voice from the stroke, but speech therapy had helped him immensely.

“You know you can’t leave the house alone, what if you forget where you are?” 

His face hardens as he looks at Lance, offended, hurt prominent in his eyes, until the expression melts away and he sighs, “You’re right.”

Lance smiles and takes his hand, “Do you want to look at the stars together?” 

“Why?” 

Lance feels his eyes sting as he fights back the tears that well in his eyes, and when he speaks his voice comes out broken and watery.

“We- we used to do that a lot, when I was younger.” 

Leonardo stares blankly at the ground and nods as if this makes sense, then turns to Lance saying, “Okay.” 

Lance gives a small smile and leads his Abuelo to the beach, the soft sound of the waves crashing against the sand serves to relax them both as they settle down onto the sand.

“Do you… remember?” Lance gulps nervously, “taking me out here for my birthday?” 

Lance’s Abuelo hesitates for a moment, staring blankly at the open ocean, before nodding slowly.

“I would tell you about the con- con steel.”

He spends some more time trying to slowly sound out the word before Lance sets a hand on his shoulder. 

“Constellations,” Lance says, before repeating the word, syllable by syllable until his Abuelo can successfully pronounce it. 

“Constellations,” he says smiling and Lance smiles back. 

“There was one constellation that I remember you telling me about,” Lance points up to the sky. 

“Hydra.” 

“Can you tell me about it?” 

“Hydra is the largest constellation in the sky. There was this story about how the Greek demi-god Hercules was sent to kill the hydra and that of its nine heads, the immortal one is the head that’s hung in the sky. Truly immortalizing it.” 

“I think I remember.”

The sad look in his Abuelo’s eyes did not go unnoticed and told Lance that he was lying, but none the less he decided ignored it and instead turned his attention back up to the sky.

It was a year later that Lance’s Abuelo’s condition got so severe that he was placed in the hospital to be watched over. 

~

Lance Age Thirteen 

~

“Careful, Lance,” his mother warns as she watches her son fumble atop the ladder. 

“I will Mama, but these need to be perfect,” Lance grunts as he stretches to place the glow in the dark star on the ceiling of the dull hospital room.

“Mijo,” she says, sympathetically, looking at her son with a plaintive gaze.

Lance climbs down from the ladder with a dozen or so stars in his hand, whose place remained undetermined.

“I know Mama,” he whispers sorrowfully. 

“I know he won’t remember.. but… it helps me, gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, he will.”

His voice fades away as the sentence drags on and eventually leaves the room void of any noise. Neither of them have the energy to try and fill it. 

Lance simply looks up at the ceiling and sighs, “It’s still too far to the left.” 

Reluctantly, he climbs back up onto the ladder to fix the misplaced star, but if a person were to back up and look at his work, they would see a perfect replication of the night sky, constellations and all, with the exception of one slightly misshapen Hydra. 

~

Lance Age 14

~

“Mrs. McClain, I understand your concern but his memory is deteriorating at an alarming rate and it really in your best interest that we keep him here so that we are able to monitor him.” 

“Not even for my son’s birthday?”

“I’m sorry but we can’t do that.” 

“Well.. how long does he have?”

“The doctors are estimating it at about three more years.” 

The tears that were brimming her eyes fell as she blinked, she turns her gaze to the floor before a sob rips itself out of her throat. 

“How am I going to tell him?” 

Unbeknownst to her, Lance was listening from around the corner. 

~

Lance Age 15

~

“I brought you some more water Abuelo,” Lance says, walking into the hospital room. 

There, his Abuelo lay, covered by the white sheets that seemed to glow painfully due to the harsh fluorescent lights above. He stares blankly at the empty wall, eyes dull. It pained Lance to see him like this, but it had slowly become their reality. This was routine for Lance, to come visit his Abuelo every day after school, and though he may not remember, Lance would make sure to tell him every detail about his day and give thorough updates on the family.

Lance was by far his most frequent visitor, it was too painful for the others to watch their loved one’s mental health deteriorate so rapidly. For Lance, however, he used this opportunity to spend as much time as possible with his Abuelo, because when the time comes, he didn't want to have any regrets and it was a good thing, until it wasn’t. 

-

“Maria, we can’t afford to keep paying these hospital bills.” 

“Well what do you expect us to do,” the woman exclaims, throwing her hands in the air, “we can’t just let him die, there has to be another way that we can pay for the bills.” 

“Alex, please.”

The man, Alex, sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I’m trying Maria, but we’re running out of options.” 

“What about your Dad, maybe we can…” 

Alex’s eyes widen, frantically he looks around the brightly lit hospital hallway, before turning back to his wife. 

“We can not talk to my father, you know that.” 

She looks down at the tile floor in distress. 

“Yes, but he has money, and don’t act like your not desperate too. We’re already in debt because of Luis’s college fund and we’re fixing to have to pay for Marco’s and…”

Maria looks up from her spot on the tile floor and meets Alex’s gaze. His resolve shatters as he stares into his wife’s hopeless eyes. 

“Okay, I’ll talk to my father, invite him over to dinner even, he won’t pull anything with the kids around.” 

“Thank you,” she smiles, “you know I love you.” 

“Love you too. Let’s go check on your dad and Lance.” 

~

“Mama, why can’t I go visit Abuelo today,” Lance whines as he continues to scrub the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. 

“Because,” his mother huffs, exasperated, “your grandfather is coming to visit, why do you think we’ve been cleaning all morning?” 

She gestures to his siblings rushing in and out of rooms in a desperate attempt to clean the cluttered area in time. Even his niece and nephew, Nadia and Sylvio, were helping out. 

“Okay, I get your point, but what if I’m really quick. You don't even need to drive me, I’ll run!” he offers in a last ditch effort to win his mother over.

“I said no. This dinner is very important to your father, and everything needs to go perfectly. Lance, mijo, I don’t want to worry you, but we’re running pretty low on money and because of that, we’re struggling to pay for the hospital bills. Your father is going to try and get some money from your grandfather. So we all need to be here to support him, you know how their relationship is…”

And he does, Lance is able to remember the fights that Pop-Pop and his dad would get in over the phone. The screaming matches that would occur because, “You wouldn’t do this if you really cared about me,” and “You betrayed this family when you decided to turn your back on the company.”

When he was younger, it confused Lance, why they never got along, why his Pop-Pop had moved to America, instead of staying with the rest of the family in Cuba. 

To be honest, he still doesn’t completely understand the situation. All he truly knows is that Pop-Pop and his dad do NOT get along. 

“Does this look okay,” his dad walks into the kitchen wearing a button-up navy blue shirt and black pants that accent his light brown hair. 

“It looks wonderful,” his mother says, walking up to him to straighten out the collar of his shirt. 

“You’re going to do great.” 

“Tha-.” 

The doorbell rings. 

The atmosphere in the house becomes tense as everyone freezes and turns to face the door. 

“I’ll get it,” Sylvio yells and gleefully runs up to the door.

“Wait,” Lance’s dad says, suddenly everyone is jolted back into motion and rushes forward to stop Sylvio from opening the door. 

Alex walks forward but slips on a puddle of water, that had resulted from Lance messily washing the dishes, and accidentally pulls Maria down with him. 

Both Veronica and Rachel trip on some of the toys that Nadia and Sylvio had neglected to pick up, causing them to fall flat on the carpet, while Luis and Lisa attempt to grab Nadia. 

In the midst of all this chaos, no one had managed to stop Sylvio from reaching the door. The young boy opens the front door to reveal a rather regal looking man of average height in a black tux, his grey hair styled out of his face to show his disinterested expression.

“A mess, as always I see, Alexandar,” he muses, as he steps through the doorway. 

He looks around the room with distaste as he takes in the disastrous state of the family.

“Benji! Hi,” Lance’s mother welcomes, as she rushes to get up off the ground.

“Don’t call me that.” He states blandly as he walks into the living room.

“Yes sir, Mr. McClain.” Maria offers a hand to her husband and helps pull him up. 

Suddenly, Marco walks into the room and pauses, “Did I miss something,” he asks tentatively, taking in the sight of his discombobulated family.

“No, nothing at all,” Veronica adds sarcastically as she moves into a sitting position on the floor.

“Luis, Marco, Veronica, Rachel, I see you are all well,” Mr. McClain says, his gaze drifting to each individual person as he addresses them.

“I’m good too Pop-Pop, thanks for asking,” Lance pipes up from the conjoined kitchen. 

Maria lightly slaps her son's arm, muttering, “Not now.” 

Ignoring Lance’s comment, Mr. McClain turns to the two younger children in the room. “And who are they?”

“Your great-grandchildren, Nadia and Sylvio, Mr. McClain, and I’m Lisa, Luis’s wife,” Lisa, who had previously opted to remain silent, holding out her hand in greeting, given that Mr. McClain doesn’t seem like the type to appreciate much physical contact.

He does not in fact shake Lisa's hand, but instead nods his head in acknowledgment, “Nice to meet you.”

Nadia bounds up to Mr. McClain, “Can we call you Pop-Pop too, since Tio Lance did it?”

“I-” 

“Sure you can Nadia,” Lance interrupts, he had moved away from his station at the kitchen sink, and was now leaning against the living room wall, a smug smile on his lips. 

Anything to get on the nerves of the man who had made his father so upset. 

Lance stares at his grandfather, awaiting his response, but instead, his mother offers an alternative, “How about we go into the backyard and some of you kids can help me make dinner?” 

Nadia and Sylvio cheer excitedly as they sprint out of the living room and towards the back of the house, quickly followed by both their parents. Lance soon attempts to follow but is promptly stopped by his mother, her dark brown eyes cutting into his soul.

“Lance, you are staying with me.”

The 15-year-old sighs, “Can Veronica at least come with me?,” he begs.

“Oh no, don’t drag me into this!”

“Veronica, come here,” their mother commands.

“But Mama, I didn’t do anything,” Veronica complains. 

“Well I still need help with dinner, don’t I?” 

Veronica's shoulders slump in defeat as she sends a heated glare towards her brother. “Fine,” she grunts and trudges into the kitchen. 

Lance’s mother turns to him, “You need to stop this nonsense okay? I told you before that this dinner means a lot to your Dad and I understand that your grandfather may not be your favorite person in the world, but you need to show him some more respect right now.” 

Lance hangs his head in shame, “Yes Mama.” 

“Good, now come into the kitchen to help me and your sister cook dinner. We’re making Tamal de Cazuela, I prepared the ingredients yesterday.” 

By the time that Lance had made his way into the kitchen, Veronica and his mother had already pulled out the pre-made ingredients. Maria was busying herself by separating the dough into four equal portions, while Veronica searched for their clay pots. 

Veronica made a high pitched squealing sound when she found one of the pots and victorious placed it on the counter before she went back to continue her search for the second. 

“Lance, please start on the first casserole,” his mother asked, as she continues to separate the last clump of dough. 

Carefully, Lance spread the dough on the bottom of the pot, which was already covered in banana leaves, and proceeded to pour a portion of the green salsa on top, before spreading the shredded chicken over the salsa and covering it with even more salsa.

He used the rest of his dough to cover the top and folded the banana leaves over. 

“Finished,” he proclaimed, setting the pot beside the oven top. 

Looking up, Lance sees Pop-Pop outside, standing uncomfortably and rather annoyed next to a vacant chair. Snickering to himself, Lance turns around and starts to work on the second casserole. 

~

An hour later everyone is seated at the two tables, Lance having been demoted to the kids' table along with Veronica and Rachel to make room for Luis, Lisa, and Pop-Pop. 

Halfway through their fairly silent meal, the few attempts that were made to fill the void left a sort of awkward tension in the air, Mr. McClain clears his throat. 

“Why did you bring me here Alex,” he asks, with such intent that Alex knows that he won't be able to put it off any longer. 

Sighing, he sets his fork down and turns to his children, “Kids, if you could just leave for a few minutes, that’d be great. The adults need to talk right now,” he turns back to the table, “Luis, Lisa, so sorry, but I think you need to go too.” 

Lance snorts behind him, and walks out with Luis, “Even married with two kids, your not mature enough for grown-up talk,” he whispers to his brother. 

Once they were far enough away for them to talk without being overheard, Alex turns to his father with a sullen look on his face. 

“Leonardo.. He’s uh, in the hospital, has been for a while.” 

Mr. Mclain hums in acknowledgement, “I’m aware.”

Licking his lips nervously, Alex thinks of how he’s going to word this next sentence. 

“We… a- uh, um, money’s tight. I um, I invited you here to see if, to ask if you would be able to help, maybe give me a job, that would pay more than my current occupation,” Alex stumbles with his wording as he is placed under Mr. McClain's cold stare. 

A smile slowly makes its way onto Mr. McClain's face, it looks so out of place to the point where it makes Alex feel unsettled. 

“I see that you’ve finally come around. Just your luck, but earlier this month one of my prior employees had a small slip up, sadly, he had to be let go, but the spot’s still available. We leave tomorrow, you are to have no explicit contact with your family or friends, and all money sent back will be delivered anonymously.” 

“Wait! I wouldn’t be able to see my family?” 

“Oh, is that a deal-breaker? From what I’ve heard, I would have thought you would be desperate for the money, I suppose I was incorrect,” Mr. McClain says, standing up. “If that's the case, I will be taking my leave.” 

“No! No, it's um, it's not a deal-breaker at all... sir.” 

The bone-chilling smile returns as Mr. McClain claps his hands together with finality. 

“Great, we leave in the morning, I'd suggest you pack your bags now,” he stated, before walking out of the dining room. 

Alex releases a sigh of relief and turns to his wife who had remained silent for the entire conversation. 

A soft, reassuring smile appears on his lips, “Everything will be okay.”

~

Next Morning

~

“Why is Dad leaving,” Veronica asks, after she spots her father talking to Pop-Pop in the corner of the room, surrounded by multiple suitcases. 

”He got a really good job offer in America so he's going back with your grandfather,” Maria answers. 

“But on such short notice,” Marco questions, ”wouldn't he have, I don't know, told us sooner or something.” 

“ It was decided last night.” 

“So that’s what you guys were talking about,” Lance exclaims from the kitchen table, bits of food flying out of his mouth. 

“Eww, chew with your mouth closed,” Veronica complains.

Lance swallows his food and sticks his tongue out at his sister, then promptly returning to his meal. 

“Okay, I'm leaving,” Alex announces, walking into the center of the living room. 

People bolt up from the table and living room chairs to join in the mass group hug. “You'll call us every night, right” Rachel asks. 

“Oh! And send us postcards,” Lance adds. 

Everyone begins to pitch in their own idea of how to stay in touch, meanwhile Alex remains silent the entire time, and simply hugs his family tighter, tears beginning to slip past his eyes. 

In the corner, Mr. McClainn stands stiffly, arms crossed over his chest, knowing very well that this may be the last time that Alex sees his family. 

~

Seven Months Later

~

Lance sits beside his Abuelo's hospital bed , reading out loud from his history textbook as he attempts to finish some of his homework for school. A soft knock comes from the door, and Lance turns his head to see his mother. 

“It's time to come back home mijo, you know that visiting hours end early on Wednesdays.” 

Lance sighs, nodding , but then turns his gaze towards the sleeping figure on the bed. 

“Why isn't Abuelo getting any better Mama,” he asks, voice hollow. 

His mother walks over to him and sets her hand on his shoulder. 

“I'm not quite sure. We just have to keep praying, it's a miracle as is that we’re able to give him the treatment he needs any way, we've done all we can at this point.” 

“Yeah, the treatment,” Lance mumbles, but there's a bite to his tone that leaves his words cut short. 

“Lance, I know that you're upset.” 

“He should be here,” Lance cuts off his mother.

They had talked about this dozens of times. Lance is fully aware of why his father isn't here and that they still need the money, but that doesn't help him feel any better. 

“He should be here! He hasn't called or sent a letter or even a postcard in seven months. SEVEN MONTHS MAMA! All he sends are those stupid checks! He just left us,” Lance yells, tears brimming his eyes, threatening to spill over. 

His mother sighs dejectedly, “I know, trust me I know. We can talk about it later, let's just go home.” 

Lance nods and reluctantly collects his things, walking over to his mother. He turns towards his Abuelo and says, ”Bye, love you Abuelo,” before closing the door to his room, unaware that this would be the last time that he would visit his Abuelo.

~

Next Day

~

Lance walks out the front entrance of his high school, fully prepared to walk to the hospital and visit his Abuelo. When he spots his mother's car amongst the others in the line. He makes his way up to the car and hops into the front seat. 

“Hi Mama I was just about to go visit Abuelo,” he explains. 

Turning to face her, he registers that his mother's eyes and nose are red, as she looks at him with tear-stained cheeks. 

“Mama, what happened?” 

Lance leans forward, suddenly very concerned. 

Maria waves him off, “I'll explain when we get home.” 

“Is everything okay?” 

A sob escapes her lips and she rests her head on the steering wheel. 

“Please,” her voice cracks, “Let's just wait for your sister.”

~

At Home

~

“Abuelo's dead. He- he passed away earlier this morning,” Maria explains, everyone is seated around her at the table as silence washes over them and all their grief-stricken expressions. 

Lance jolts up, chair scraping against the ground with a screech. 

“Lance-,” his mother starts, but it's too late. Lance has already run out the door, slamming it closed, and starts sprinting towards the beach, tears streaming down his face. 

He frantically wipes his eyes in a desperate attempt to clear his vision, but it results in him slipping on the loose sand and falling to the ground. 

Sobs rack his body as he kneels down, waves lapping at his knees. It takes time, but eventually, Lance is able to get up and make his way to their special spot. 

He stays there until after the sun goes down, staring up at the sky and trying to make out the constellations through the tears. 

Sleep begins to overcome him, the exhaustion from crying for so long, so he curls up into a ball in the sand. Nose red and stuffed, as well as the stiff skin on his cheeks from the dried tears and bloodshot eyes. 

Lance closes his eyes in an attempt to slow his breathing eventually leading to him falling asleep in the sand.

~

Two years pass and Lance drowns himself in schoolwork, rather than properly mourning, but every one of his decisions is affected by his Abuelo. 

Lance makes sure to keep all of his grades as high as possible, and takes more STEM-based courses all throughout his high school career, so that he could be accepted into the Galaxy Garrison, a piloting program that his Abuelo had mentioned wanting to attend when he was younger. 

The week before Lance was due to leave for college was the first week that he had gone to visit his Abuelo’s grave of his own accord. He decides against wearing anything too formal, but does bring his Galaxy Garrison acceptance letter. 

Standing in front of the tombstone, Lance simply stares for a few seconds before kneeling down and carefully placing the flowers that had been in his hand on the ground. 

“Hi Abuelo, I'm sorry that I didn't visit earlier. I brought you flowers, and I came to show you this,” Lance pulls out his acceptance letter,”I did it- we did it- I got into the Galaxy Garrison. I know that you've always dreamed of going and I just, god I wish you were here. To see me, we could talk about it, you could give me advice. I- I'm leaving next week you know and it's uh- it's all the way in California. I- I'm just so scared, what if I flunk out? I'm not sure that I'd be able to live by myself, it's just so much responsibility and Mama's got enough on her shoulders, because Veronica's going to a college in America too, but it's not near mine and -fuck- we've already basically lost dad, and I don't want to do that to her, you know? I need to be here for her but this is my dream she knows that and she supports me, but I can't help but feel like I'm disappointing her for leaving. It's just, it's so hard without you. I- I miss you so much, I don't know what to do.” 

Tears are falling down Lance’s face by the time that he was finished and a hand finds its way onto his shoulder. Looking up, Lance sees Veronica. 

She slumps down next to him and wraps her arms around him in a hug. 

”I miss him so much Vero,” he sobs. 

Tears stain her face as well, she squeezes Lance harder.

”I know Lance, but sometimes we just have to keep moving on, and that's all we can do, because the truth sucks, but the truth is that he's not coming back. But Lance, I promise you. I PROMISE you, that he knows just how hard you've worked and how much you love him. I promise you, that he is so god damn proud of the wonderful person that you've become.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hoped you enjoyed! I've been working on this on and off for about half a year (because I'm lazy), but just recently found the motivation to finish it so I kind of haven't slept in a while... 
> 
> Any and all constructive criticism is welcome! Especially if you happen to find a grammar and/or spelling error (no matter how small), I'd be happy to fix it if you point it out to me!
> 
> Make sure you go and read the other works for this series! Thank you~


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